Follow Me, Remember Me
by Allekha
Summary: Isabella discovered JJ when she was still in high school and he was still in Juniors. She had no way of knowing, of course, that within a couple of years, she would meet him in person, get his number, and win his heart. (Pre-canon, Isabella/JJ)


Isabella discovered JJ while she was in high school.

She had always liked skating, though she preferred ice dancing to pairs and singles, and she had been a rather casual fan until, at sixteen, she had stumbled upon the online skating fan community. That first night, she had stayed up three hours past her usual bedtime watching videos on YouTube that various people had recommended as their favorites.

It was easy enough to get involved, though it did take her a while to hone her judgment as to whom she should get involved _with_. She lurked in forums at first, followed everyone on Twitter – then pruned her follow list down to the more interesting skaters and the sort of fans she would have a conversation with. Articulate. Polite. Not drama-seeking. And definitely nobody who made creepy comments or, heavens forbid, stalked the skaters.

With a whole community of people to talk about skating with, she naturally started to pay better attention. In particular, she paid more attention to the Canadian skaters, and not just the ice dancers, not just that one famous young woman with the beautiful spins and difficult combinations. This was how, about a year into her newfound interest, she discovered JJ.

He was in his last year of Juniors, ready to move up to Seniors as soon as he was old enough. He was cute, and he was always smiling. He moved like he knew he was going to win (and he got _very_ nice scores). And on top of all of that, the way he skated was wonderful to watch, with both artistry and strength and his own unique air.

She liked this one. And he didn't yet have a consolidated online fan presence. So she did what any well-organized teenager who needed something to fill the cracks in her schedule would do: she started one. Just a Twitter account, at first, posting links to videos and images and short updates scraped from the rest of her news feed. By the next year, with her follower list growing now that JJ was making waves as a new senior, in her first year at university and bored in half her classes, she found a bit of money, figured out how to register a domain, and taught herself how to make a website.

It had a forum (strictly moderated), a page dedicated to every past performance of his that she could find a record of, and a front page that she kept well-updated. Sometimes people complained about how strictly she enforced the rules on her forum, but others said that they liked how peaceful and positively-focused it was. Working on the site was a welcome break from the tedium of her schoolwork.

She didn't really dream of meeting him someday – oh, she thought about it, once in a while, but the chance was small, it seemed to her, and of course it would be nice, but it would also be nice if she could get a good job in accounting after she graduated. So it was a surprise when she woke up one morning, a few months into the new year and also the day after having posted information on some charity skating event that JJ was involved with, to a strange email in her inbox.

It was right below a promotional email advertising half-off makeup and right above one from a fellow fan linking her to a press release she had already read. The subject line was just the name of the event. Inside was an offer from (and she did some Googling to confirm the details lined up with reality) one of the organizers, who had noticed her news post and was asking her to help promote a raffle for tickets to what sounded like a meet-and-greet with JJ afterwards – all proceeds going to the children's hospital that the event was supporting, of course.

She replied saying that yes, she would be happy to help out, and then promptly snagged three raffle tickets. She didn't win, but one of her moderators, who lived ten hours away, did, then decided that she couldn't make the trip; she offered her ticket to Isabella, asking her to write about the event afterward. While she had plenty to keep herself busy, once in a while Isabella would find herself skipping a couple of months forward in her calendar to summer, and with it the day of the event.

Then, finally, the day arrived, warm and bright on the outside, buzzing with excited chatter in the rink itself. The skating was good, and she successfully resisted checking the clock after each person went as she waited for her favorite. JJ's exhibition was as beautiful as ever, even though she had already seen every variation of it that he had performed already. Afterward, she huddled in the midst of the others who had won tickets to see him, most of them girls around her age. She expected to take a photo with him, perhaps exchange a few words – of support from her, of thanks from him – and then to step aside to let the next girl go and start mentally working on her write-up.

She was pleased to find that JJ in real life was exactly like JJ in interviews: loud, exuberant, with a big grin on his face. Some of his jokes fell flat as he chatted with each of them, but Isabella could tell that he was trying. And then it was her turn, and that smile was pointed straight at her, and she could feel her heart beating in her ears as she introduced herself. "Isabella Yang," she said, holding her hand out.

Before she could say anything further – any of the words she had rehearsed about how she loved his skating and how she was going to cheer for him next season – he lit up. "You're the girl who runs my fansite!"

"Um," said Isabella, desperately trying to figure out what to say – where had he gotten her name from? She didn't use it on the site itself. "Yes, I am," was what she settled on.

"I'm so glad you came," JJ said, clasping her hand between both of her own. The bright look hadn't faded one iota. "When I saw it, it felt like everyone on there was cheering me on. Support from you all really keeps me going just as much as my family does."

Isabella got her photo, then stood aside as she had planned to let the next girl have her turn. She did not start working on her write-up in her head. At the end of their allotted time, JJ pulled her aside and asked if she was planning on covering any of his other volunteer work for the rest of the summer, then invited her to come along to everything.

Long before the end of the summer, he had given her his number. (She hadn't asked for it; that would be creepy, coming from a fan. But when he gave it to her, _that_ was very nice of him and made her feel a little warmer every time she saw his name in her phone.) At first, he just messaged her pictures from the rink when he was practicing, or links or other little tidbits that she could post on the site, often before those things made it on to his own Twitter.

The day before his first competition of the season, she opened their text conversation and wrote, _Good luck tomorrow!_ She considered it for a moment. She already had his number. This was fine. So she sent it.

 _Thanks! :)_ he wrote back, and then five seconds later: _Make sure to watch! I swear I can hear you clapping from me over the ocean._

 _I'll clap very hard, then_ , she sent. He replied with another smiley.

She sent him comments after his short program, but unfortunately, she had an exam during his free program, and a project due the next day. Staring at her notebooks too early in the morning, trying to put everything together into something coherent, she welcomed the distraction when her phone dinged.

 _Did you watch?_

 _I didn't get the chance yet :( Schoolwork is taking everything I have_.

 _Homework?_

 _A lot of it! I'll watch your program tomorrow, I promise_.

And she did, and she sent him a compliment about his step sequence and didn't mention the two jumps he had flubbed. They ended up texting back and forth for an hour after that, until JJ had to catch his flight home. Some of his wording was a bit awkward, but written conversation was always a bit awkward, Isabella had long since decided, and he was being nice underneath it. They had spent most of their time talking about the competition, but towards the end JJ had asked about her studies, and so she had told him about how she was studying accounting and let slip a couple of complaints about one of her professors.

Really, it was any fan's dream. Isabella would have been content with a single conversation with him, a few exchanged lines at the event back in early summer. And now she had his number.

They'd had a _real_ conversation about themselves. She wasn't just a fan any more. She was – perhaps not a friend, not yet, but she could be.

They didn't properly talk after that until his next competition, and after that it became something of a routine: cheer JJ on, text him about his performances, while away time with him afterward. She asked him about rumors that popped up on her Twitter feed, never quite asking if they were true or not but sometimes getting an answer. He sent her photos of himself waiting to go or during practice, most of which made it on to the website, and compliments or complaints about the quality of the local coffee.

The night before he was supposed to do his short program at World's, she wasn't doing anything in particular – checking her forums in case anything needed her attention, refreshing social media instead of opening her textbook like she ought to – when her phone went off. _Hey, how are you_.

 _Bored, mostly. Looking forward to seeing you skate tomorrow!_

 _Thanks! I know I'll do great._ She put her phone down and opened a YouTube link someone had just posted, but before the video had loaded, her phone dinged again. _You'd still cheer me on even if I messed up right_.

 _Of course_ , she wrote back. _Everyone has off days, it doesn't mean you're not a great skater. Even Nikiforov had that scary fall a few years ago! And I like watching you. Your personality always shines through. Haha, sometimes it takes until the fourth or fifth rewatch for me to notice things that I would see right away with anyone else because I'm so distracted ;)_

 _Thanks_ , he wrote again, then: _Seriously, lol I'm actually feeling kind of nervous right now for some reason. Keep it secret ok I haven't even told my parents haha_.

She started to write, _Shouldn't you tell them so they can help you?_ Considered it as it sat there on her phone, waiting for her to send it. She erased the whole thing and started over. _Aw, I'm honored. Don't worry, it's safe with me :) I hope you feel okay in the morning._

He did fine the next day, just as Isabella had been sure he would.

Neither of them brought the subject up again, though a few days later, when JJ was texting her from the airport again, she closed her laptop and went to lay on her bed as they chatted. _By the way_ , she wrote, pausing to roll from her side to her stomach. _I'm curious about something. You never told me how you found out my name. It isn't on the website._

 _I just found your site one day and I really wanted to know who ran it so I could say thanks but you never replied to my email about it so I looked it up somehow. I don't remember exactly what I did. Something about finding the registration I think it took me a while to figure out._

 _Ohhh. Your email might have gotten caught in my filters? I use them to keep trolls out_. She hastily checked, but if he had indeed sent her an email, it was long gone.

Summer could not come swiftly enough, and along with the good weather and long days of sunshine there came more invitations from JJ, just as with the previous year. There were more of them this year, as Canada was starting, here and there, to take better notice of him.

Isabella arrived at the first charity event with carefully-done makeup and an extra pen (because she _was_ going to post about this on the website, after all, and she had yet to figure out how to make quick notes on her phone that she could decipher afterward, whereas notebooks worked fine). Afterward, she dawdled behind the crowds as JJ smiled and signed photos, until the people started to disperse. JJ met her eyes as she approached him, and that grin was different; it was for her alone.

He said something quick to his parents, then asked if she wanted to get coffee. She accepted and let him pay for her after a token protest, and when he asked her to choose their seat, she picked a quiet inside table in the corner but next to the window.

He started off talking about himself, his plans for the next season, but with a bit of nudging they soon moved on to other topics: recent events, movies they had seen, normal things. They spent a good half hour on _The King and the Skater_ , which Isabella had only just seen for the first time, and which, she felt, had a rather undeserved reputation in the skating world. "But it's a movie about skating saving a country," JJ complained at her, "and the actors actually knew what they were doing. And then in the sequel they save the Earth itself with the power of their skating! How can you _not_ love it?"

She didn't love the magical trading cards, for one thing, or the way the script had treated the Thai characters, or the fact that hardly a single woman had any lines – things that the sequel had improved markedly on, to be fair, except that in exchange their special effects budget had disappeared altogether. It was a fun argument, though. She liked the grand gestures JJ made to emphasize his points, the way he laughed – genuinely, not mockingly – when she made a good observation of her own.

"Didn't you say needed to be back in half an hour?" she asked after checking her watch for the first time since they had arrived.

"What, already?" She showed him the time; he made a face. "Okay, but we have to do this again next time."

"I'd love to."

They threw out their cups and discovered that they were going separate ways just outside the café when Isabella started to turn left while JJ went right. They both turned back to each other again and laughed. "I liked this," JJ said before she could form the words of a good-bye. "It was fun. And you're different from what I remember somehow, I can't figure it out. Did you cut your hair or something? It's pretty."

"I did," Isabella said, touching the ends – a new style she was trying out. "Thank you." Her pulse was suddenly pounding in her ears. She wondered if she should... well. She decided to go ahead and ask. "Next time, perhaps we could make it a date?"

JJ smiled often, was usually bright with his own energy, but at her words he became lit up, almost starstruck. "Of course! Italian? You said you liked Italian."

"Italian would be perfect."

They set a time and a place and then said their good-byes. Isabella couldn't help but smile to herself several times on the way home as the thought came up: _I'm going on a date with JJ._ When she finally arrived, she sat down at her computer and opened her site. She didn't feel like deciphering her notes, though. _If everything goes well, JJ is going to be my boyfriend_ , she thought, staring at the screen. She thought, then, of the scarier types of fans, and spent a couple of hours making sure there was nothing connected to the name she used on her site that she didn't want connected to it, just in case.

When the day came, she didn't let herself overthink it too much – pulled on a nice outfit and picked out her favorite shade of red for her lips – and arrived ten minutes early. JJ came right on time, and after the waiter had left them alone, he picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. It was silly, but from the width of his grin she could tell that he was trying to be sweet.

The conversation was awkward, at first. He hadn't seen any new movies since they talked at the café, she couldn't think of anything in the news that might make for interesting discussion, and they had already worn out several other common topics either in their messages or at the café. By the time their food arrived, though, they had managed to hit upon the topic of music, and after that, things went more smoothly.

He paid for the meal before she could even offer to split it, beaming at her, then walked her to her bus stop, where she slipped her hand into his larger one as they waited. "Did you have a good time?" he asked.

"Yes, it was lovely."

He squeezed her hand. "Where do you want to go next time?"

"Well, let's see. We've done coffee, food... I don't think any good movies are coming out, but how about a park?"

The bus arrived before they could figure out the details. Before she got on, JJ pulled her in for a kiss, warm and very short. So short, in fact, that she pressed another one to his lips, longer and at a better angle. There was just a touch of flush to his cheeks, a brightness in his eyes, when they parted, and he leaned down for a third kiss. She had to stop him with a gentle hand on his chest, to her own regret, or else she would miss her ride.

Their second date went fine, as did the third, fourth – after that, she stopped counting. JJ treated her well, even if he sometimes did spend too long going on about his upcoming plans and the programs he was putting together for the next season. He bragged about her when word of their relationship inevitably got out, calling her the smartest and most beautiful woman in the world. The first time she invited him into her bed, he slid down her body, slid his hands up her long skirt, pressed kisses to her thighs, gave her the most adoring look.

Then summer ended, as it had to, and suddenly she was busy with classes and he was busier than ever. He seemed to take it worse than she did, texting her at least a dozen times a day. _I miss you_ , he wrote, when they had been apart for only three days. From the way he kissed her the next day, when they took a few hours for each other, he really, _really_ had.

There was no point in telling him off for being clingier than she was; she simply figured out how to have her phone set itself to silent during her class hours and usual study times and tried to reply to him when she could.

Before he left for his first competition of the season, she put off a project and surprised him at the rink at the end of his practice. "I didn't think I'd get to see you again before I left," he said as she knelt down to undo his skates for him. She replied with a smile before returning to her task. "Hey," he said, softly, as she pulled the second one off, and drew her up for a long kiss.

Afterward, she waited patiently, holding his coat for him, as he finished talking with his parents, before they linked hands and walked quickly through the chill to her place.

"I'm going to make the GP final," he said, quite some time later, against her neck.

"Mm?" He had tired her out and he was nice and warm – she was falling asleep. "Of course you will."

"When I do, I'll buy you a ticket and you can come along and cheer me on."

"Sounds good." She yawned and tucked herself closer against him. She was pretty sure she wouldn't have anything important scheduled then. "I know you'll do great," she murmured, and she could feel the smile he pressed into her hair.

He made it, of course, so they took a plane to Russia together. The only other time she had ever been out of the country was as a child, to visit an aunt who lived a few hours south of the border in America; this was much more exciting. Every spare moment that JJ wasn't busy with something else, they were making good use of their time to see what Sochi was like outside of the hotel. "Are you sure you don't want to meet up with any of the other skaters?" she asked as they made their way through the Sochi Art Museum; he seemed rather less interested in the paintings than she was. "I can keep myself entertained for a few hours if you'd prefer to go somewhere else."

"Nah," he said, grabbing hold of her hand again. "You're enjoying it, good enough for me."

"But I'll feel bad if you're bored, JJ," she pointed out, and they ended up with a compromise: JJ went out, she got some quiet museum time in at her own pace, and they met up again in a couple of hours to do something else.

During the competition, it was exciting to be in the stands and scream with the rest of the JJ's Girls who had shown up as he emerged onto the ice. He beamed at the crowd, did his cross, and settled into his pose to wait for the music to start. Isabella lead each cheer when he landed his best jumps, then clapped louder than anyone else when he finished his performance.

She updated her site on her phone as she waited for him to appear again, afterward. Bronze! She was so proud of him (and a little glad for herself once more, for having caught his heart – he was a _much_ better catch in every way than anyone else she had ever dated). She told him as much in the cab ride back to the hotel. "Some day it'll be gold," he said, holding up the medal, though with how dark it was, she wouldn't get a chance to look at it closely until they were back in their room.

"And I'll be even more proud of you then," she said, thinking, _a couple of years, maybe_ , because JJ had a good eye for composition and crowds loved him and he was wonderfully talented, but, well, even he had lost to Nikiforov by fifty points. Eventually, though, Nikiforov would have to step aside for one reason or another and start letting younger skaters have a chance at winning, and while there were other good contenders, she knew JJ was the strongest of them all.

There was some sort of official party after everything finished that JJ could bring her along to, and it was fun for a while – she had a conversation with a nice woman skater from Italy while JJ had to go talk to someone important, and the food was good – but she was ready to leave by the time people started getting _really_ drunk off the champagne and challenging each other to dance contests.

Her feet were aching in her heels – not very new ones, but she hadn't gotten around to testing them for comfort before tonight, and she usually had such good luck with this brand. She wrapped her arms around one of JJ's as they approached the hotel elevator and tried not to make it too obvious that she was leaning on him out of discomfort. "JJ," she said as they waited – why did the floors here have to be so hard? "You haven't told even me what your plans for next season are. I know you have them, but are they that secret?"

JJ brightened. "No, they aren't. I can tell you right now, I just got the good news that everything's going to work out." The elevator arrived, and they stepped in. "You remember the band I mentioned talking with? Well, they're gonna do a collaboration with me. I just have to finish writing the lyrics."

She smiled and leaned more weight into him, mind half on the conversation and half on these damned shoes. "That's wonderful," she said. "Your very own music! What is it going to be called, do you know?"

"It's going to be 'Theme of King JJ'," he said, back straightening even more than usual. "What do you think?"

"'Theme of King JJ', huh." The doors to their floor opened, and she was grateful that their room was only a few steps down the hallway. "If you're the king," she said as JJ fished for his keycard, "that makes me the queen, doesn't it?"

The door clicked, and JJ gently shook her grip off to give an exaggerated bow as he opened the door for her. "My lady."

She stifled a laugh behind her hand and went in. "So how do we treat our queen, JJ?"

The door hadn't even shut behind them when he answered by scooping her up, one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders. "My lady," he said again, voice gone deeper, as he pressed a kiss to her neck. "How can I be of service?"

"You can help me out of these shoes, for one thing."

He carried her to the bed, and didn't just drop her to bounce on the covers; he gently set her down with another kiss before dropping to his knees before her. He undid the straps of her heels and carefully pulled each shoe off, the reverse of her taking off his skates for him when she could make the ends of his practices. When they were set aside, he crossed his arms over her knees and peered up at her, the most adoring look in his eyes. "Anything else, my queen?"

She pulled him up on to the bed, pressed him down to the comforter, and told him exactly what she wanted; he immediately set about serving her demands.

Much later, drowsy but not quite able to sleep just yet, she reached over a dozing JJ to grab her phone. There were a few photos she had taken today that she knew JJ's Girls would appreciate, though she was too sleepy to give them proper captions and ended up just posting them with a few nice words. The likes began rolling in almost immediately; right, it was a more reasonable time back home, not the early morning hour that it was here.

She could show the comments to JJ tomorrow. She dropped her phone back on the night stand and curled back into him, re-positioning his arm around her. He must have woken back up, at least a little, since as she snuggled back into the covers, he pressed a kiss to her hair and pulled her closer. "Night," he murmured, the word rough.

"Good night," she sighed, suddenly too warm and contented to be awake any longer. She made one final adjustment and the fell swiftly into her dreams, ready to go where they took her – through lines of numbers that added up nicely, though floods of posts on her message board that never stopped, or into JJ's arms as he prepared to skate them somewhere far away.

* * *

A/N: Written for inelegantly for the Chocolate Box 2017 exchange.


End file.
